


Pain (Loss)

by Summertime_Poet



Series: MASH ficlets [3]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Nightmares, but a great spoonful of angst before that, charles being nice, like- ho boy where did that come from, not yet established hunnihawk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 03:36:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18065849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summertime_Poet/pseuds/Summertime_Poet
Summary: “Beej!Beej!!!“ He is frantically shouting, but while he can feel the words on his lips, he can’t tell for all that’s dear to him in this lousy world if they are actually making it past them. He feels like he is falling, and there is nothing on his way down that could stop him from hitting the ground at the end of his fall.





	Pain (Loss)

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was looking through my fanfic folders the other day when this fic from last summer caught my eye and I remembered I never posted it?? Anyway, I'm really happy with how it turned out, so I hope you'll enjoy it, as well! <333  
> Thank you to the dear [onekisstotakewithme](www.archiveofourown.org/users/onekisstotakewithme/pseuds/onekisstotakewithme) for looking over this for me before posting and for the yelling :D You are awesome ❤

“Beej! _Beej!!!_ “ He is frantically shouting, but while he can feel the words on his lips, he can’t tell for all that’s dear to him in this lousy world if they are actually making it past them. He feels like he is falling, and there is nothing on his way down that could stop him from hitting the ground at the end of his fall.

“ _Beej!_ ” He turns around, but even behind his back everything around him is dark. Too dark. He knows dark nights. The nights when they had spent most of the day in the OR and it felt like it didn’t end even after they had stitched up every single one of the kids. When they drank themselves into a stupor that they knew they would regret come morning and when the darkness that started surrounding them when the intoxication finally, _finally_ knocked them out, still wasn’t dark enough to make them fully forget.

This is darker.

He knows it not only because he sees it, but, even more than that, feels the chill in his very bones that he had only felt once before, so many years ago that it felt lifetimes away. He had been younger then, and he hadn’t been alone with the darkness at that time. Now, however–

“ _Beej! Beej, where are you?_ ”

He turns around yet another time, limbs flailing around as he keeps falling where he stands.

It is then that the faces come into view, just a shade lighter than the darkness encompassing them all. They’re all standing around him, looking at him with pity and sadness in the eyes. Colonel Potter is just lightly shaking his head, Margaret is avoiding his gaze, arms crossed above her chest, Klinger looks more down in the dumps than he has ever seen him, Radar is clutching his clipboard to his chest as though it substitutes for his teddy bear and looks like he is a second from running, and Charles... Charles’s face shows something akin to compassion, something that Hawkeye has not consciously seen on his face so far.

“Where _is_ he?” He shouts at them all, and he realizes only now that he is crying, tears running down his cheeks and his throat. He is shaking, the feeling of falling causing a nausea so strong it is pushing him to his knees, and he looks up at his friends, but none of them say a word.

“ _Where is he?_ ” He feels like his voice should be cracking from all the shouting he has been doing, but still, nobody seems to want to reply to him. They look like they are merely two-dimensional when they move aside, fading into the darkness once again, and now he can see it.

It’s a square patch on the ground, not far from him, and it’s even _darker_ than the darkness, reaching into the ground who knows how deep.

It takes him a second to realize what it is, and then he is already on his feet, scrambling to get as far away from it as possible. _It can’t possibly be..._

He trips over his own feet several times, keeps crashing to the ground, but the pain in his arms and legs doesn’t register. He is sure he just broke his hand during the last fall, but he keeps running.

_It can’t be true, it just- can’t. Beej, you wouldn’t just leave me like that. You_ can’t _. Not like that. Not without a notice. Not–_

“Not before I told you.” He is telling himself as he stumbles and hits the ground yet another time. His hands feel wet, and he doesn’t need to see to know it is blood.

With this final fall, he finally stops moving, and the anger and desperation of loss start hitting him with a force he had never felt before. Of all the people he did not ever want to lose– Not Beej.

Not his BJ.

He starts to feel the pain from his running away from the spot, the physical ache worsening the one in his heart, and then he is running his bleeding hands down his face, pulling at his hair, and he is screaming. He feels like the darkness has no ears, and it _hurts_ , it hurts _so much_ , because he is alone now, all alone, because they took the one thing he loved most in this hell, and he doesn’t stop screaming because if this is hell, then he has all of eternity to scream at those who dare mock him with this fate.

And then the darkness turns into a brightness so stinging in his eyes, he passes out.

 

“-Pierce! _Pierce!_ ” The next thing he knows is that somebody is shaking him, not exactly friendly, more practical than anything. Well, he shouldn’t expect kindness in hell after all.

“Pierce, will you look at me!” The voice keeps talking to him, hushed and urgent. He wonders why anyone would whisper in hell, but–

He hears someone sobbing. Ever so quietly. He wants to stand up, see if he can find the source of the crying. It sounds like a child who lost something. Someone. He needs to try to help. He–

He crashes against something, and the other person curses under their breath.

“Be careful, Pierce, will you,” the voice snaps, and all of a sudden, he finally recognizes the major.

“Charles?” He can’t see the other man, everything is still too bright and he isn’t half sure he isn’t just hallucinating right now. At least the sobbing is starting to quiet down. It feels like a bit of the weight that had settled on his chest is being heaved off it.

“Pierce, will you just open your eyes, please.” He chuckles– his eyes are open. ...aren’t they?

He feels a shock go through his entire body, and all of a sudden, the brightness is gone and Charles’s face is only inches away from his own. He isn’t entirely sure how to read the expression on it– it looks like Charles is both irritated and worried?

“Pierce, thank god you’re with us now. Are you alright?”

He tries to open his mouth, tries to tell him that _yes, of course, why wouldn’t he be_ , but neither can he get the words past his lips, nor would he be telling the truth. He really doesn’t feel alright. So he just shakes his head.

“I gathered as much. I’m glad you’re awake now, you would only have woken up Hunnicutt, and–“

“Beej is here?” The words feel scratchy on his lips and he notices only now how dry his throat feels.

“He is–“ Before Charles can finish his sentence, Hawkeye is scrambling to his feet. He nearly trips as he tries to stand up again and makes his way past Charles, but he is stopped by a heavy hand on his shoulder. He turns around harshly, _why would Charles stop him from seeing BJ, what could possibly–_

“Don’t.” Charles says and his voice is surprisingly calm, no edge to it. “He only came back from the OR half an hour ago, you’d only deprive him of much needed sleep.”

Hawkeye is torn between wanting to wake BJ, see that he is alive and as well as he can be in this place, and following Charles’s advice and let the man sleep. He turns around where he stands and takes a look at the sleeping form of his best friend. He can see BJ’s chest move up and down as he calmly breathes in his sleep, and finally, _finally_ he realizes that he is back in Korea when the worry lines BJ wore for a moment soften and his mouth twitches into a light smile. He watches BJ breathe softly for another moment, before Charles’s quiet cough pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Right,” Hawkeye says and sits back down on his cot, pulling his legs up to his chest after a moment, because despite feeling like he is back to where he belongs (which is not Korea, but wherever BJ is no matter what) he still feels empty inside, hollow from all the pain and loss that he felt far too realistically.

Charles isn’t moving from where he stands and he speaks up into the silence.

“I am going to take a shower now, but I hear the coffee is less terrible than usual today, so maybe we’ll meet in the mess tent later.” He meets Hawkeye’s gaze for a split second, then he nods. “Pierce.” With everything said for now, he leaves the tent.

Only now, Hawkeye sees the towel slung over Charles’s shoulder as the major walks away. He also finally starts hearing noises other than his own heartbeat and BJ’s soft breathing from the other side of the tent. He lets his gaze wander slowly– he can see Radar hurry by outside, clipboard pressed to his chest. He can see Margaret looking away somewhat exasperated as Klinger is holding up a piece of clothing, looking distressed, and Colonel Potter shaking his head at something a corporal he hasn’t seen here before is saying. He can hear a rare bird singing outside, and he can hear Sophie whinny from afar.

Most of all though, alongside the sounds of a camp full of living people, seeing BJ alive and with warm-looking cheeks caused by sleep is what finally starts pushing the hollow feeling out of his chest.

He takes his time to get up from his cot and takes another look at BJ, who is now fully wearing his adorable toothy smile. Hawkeye smiles back, even though BJ can’t see it, and finds happiness filling him at the fact that at least one of them is getting some much-deserved peaceful dreams.

Charles’s indirect invitation echoes in his head again and he decides that he could really use some company right now, even if it should lead to the usual bickering in the end. He walks up to BJ’s cot and drops a feather-light kiss on top of his head. Then he turns to walk out of the tent so he won’t end up standing there for as long as he honestly wants to right now.

He will talk to him later, when BJ’s awake again and Hawkeye has found the right words to make it past his lips this time.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can also find this fic on my [fanfic blog](www.patsdrabbles.tumblr.com). ^_^ ❤
> 
> Feedback is, no matter how short, super appreciated and bound to make my entire week! <333


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